


Affers, Affers

by MindBoggling



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:47:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindBoggling/pseuds/MindBoggling
Summary: Welcolme to the much needed show "Affers, Affers" featuring our favourite Meaningful Background Character.
Comments: 27
Kudos: 9





	1. Teaser

Speaking of underused characters on the show, I have a very soft spot for Affers. He deserves his own story, right?

Only thing I am fairly certain about is that potential smut will not include either Ollie, Emma or Phil #sorrynotsorry


	2. Just an average night at the flat

Kitchen. 

Phil counting his courgettes. Again. It‘s not like he even cooks. Best not to speculate.

Living room. 

Creepy guy hanging around. Again. Pretending to be here because of Emma and not because he has no actual friends.

Everybody lives in flat shares in London.  
All his mates live in flat shares.  
None of them this posh, but none of them this fucking dysfunctional either.

Affers puts his dinner on a tray, picks up his laptop and retracts to his bedroom.

Even the crack den Dave lives in offers more social contact and less profanities. Suppose he gets to choose the TV programme sometimes too.

Dinner in his bedroom it is then. Again.


	3. A troll appears

Should never have moved in. Gaz said he was bat shit crazy to share with an anally fixated Tory shite but he didn't mind. 

Things had been actually been nice before that floppy haired LARPing jerk had moved in. 

He'd liked Emma. He'd never understood why she would allow Phil to come over let alone live with them. 

He'd have vetoed against it but Emma's dad had lowered her monthly allowances so she cajoled him into accepting a third flatmate.

"A nice quiet guy, never at home, no fuss".

Ha!

He wasn't interested in politics.

Seriously, was there any person interested in politics outside some 1.5 square miles of London and a couple of wankers on the media?

Too bad so many of them hung around this flat.


	4. It's the twatweasel (again)

He found the amount of baby sitting politicians, grown men, seemed to need 24/7 astonishing, even after a year of living with Emma.

They seemed to be able to breathe without assistance, and that was about it.

It was okay when it was just Emma's phone ringing round the clock and her shouting at people on her mobile or on a boring television programme. Now it was her and Phil who were supposed to work together and hated each other's guts.

It's not that Affers doesn't have his share of challenging colleagues and demanding customers. Working in IT is not all just "Did you try switching it off and on again".

It's just that he'd not choose to share a flat with them. Working in politics seems to lower your standards quite a bit. Especially when it comes to choosing a partner? shag? consulting creep?

He's obviously still living with his mum, the amount of time he spends here. Then again he looks like he is under age so that's probably the reason.


	5. Afterthought

Maybe they were not even shagging. Maybe Emma was his legal guardian.

That would be the only halfway reasonable explanation.

Affers had never noticed any strange noises, and much as Phil was complaining about Twatweasel's constant presence at the flat, had he actually ever mentioned sex noises? 

Affers had been training his skill to blank out Phil's constant babble, so he wouldn't know.


	6. maybe

Maybe this was all a huge socio-politological experiment gone horribly wrong?

Emma had been reading Sociology at The Other Place, he remembered. Maybe she knew those two snotty entitled ninnies from there? 

Funny how much life was still about class.

Affers was an Oxford man himself. He had been a proud graduate from _a_ Manchester grammar school (not _THE_ fucking Manchester Grammar School thank you very much). He was a social climber, just attending Oxford to make his parents proud.

He'd had a good time reading Mathemathics and Philosophy, but there had always been that invisible divider. You just knew. You knew those folks by their clothes and their language and their fucking awful secret sexist and racist societies. He'd never wanted to join but they would never let you either.

Maybe he was still the odd one out among the selection of public school wankers.

Maybe he was the odd one out in this flatshare.


	7. Definitely maybe

It was early January and Affers was more than happy to stay home alone. Everybody had finally fucked off to work at last. He needed time to think. Yesterday evening had be fucking awful.

It was a nice flat if no one else was around. It was just the people who came with it who made it unbearable in a bizarre real life variation of the goat-wolf-cabbage optimisation problem.

It was okay if either Phil or Emma were around. They were fairly easy to ignore once you learned how to blank out the constant calls on their mobiles.

It was also possible to ignore Emma and Ollie and their hideous sex noises. After all that was only a matter of minutes.

Phil and Emma combined tended to be pretty awful, but essentially harmless like Waldorf & Statler. Phil and Ollie were basically in a ridiculous battle of overconfident Hobbits versus Ewoks. 

But once you got the three of them together there were casualty.

Yesterday night Phil and Emma had been full Martha and George during Walpurgisnacht, arguing about Ollie‘s constant presence in the flat. While he silently agreed with Phil that Ollie seemed far too comfortable around here, Affers felt loyal to Emma so he didn‘t join the conversation. He had simply sat at the table chatting to a friend on his laptop to make plans for the weekend. As per usual the argument still excalated quickly and then Emma had dropped the bomb. Something about her putting up a sex grid the size of an entire sheet on the fridge and how he and Phil could share half a post it?

Affers was still angry. How the fuck had Emma dragged him in the argument? Like getting Shit on a Stick fucking you was anything to write home about. Which indeed Emma had not done yet. 

Affers quietly changed the password of the flat‘s shared broadband account when some mobile rang. It wasn‘t his.


	8. Things are looking up

Well it had better be a mobile ringing and not an actual police siren coming from Emma's bedroom. It stopped after thirty seconds. Then it started blasting again. He tried to ignore it, but after the fourth or fifth cycle he realised the caller was determined not to give up.

If Affers wanted to finally enjoy his peace and quiet he'd have to enter the "love nest" (ugh) to shut that thing up.

He found Ollie's poncy Iphone on Emma's chest of drawers she insisted on calling a _chiffonier_. Before he could mute it the damn siren went off again.

"Fuck's sake. Oliver Reeder's phone".

A deceptively mellow voice asked "Have you sorted it, Ollie?"

"Listen, it's not -"

"Shall I send Jamie over? Would you like that?"

"You don't understand, this isn't -"

"You and Jamie and a rubber truncheon, locked in that fucking newsroom together."

"No, I'm fine."

"Then make me happy. Bring me sunshine."

The line went dead. Affers looked at the caller ID that said "Malcolm Tucker."

This was getting interesting.

  


When the siren went off again the screen said "Jamie MacDonald". Affers might not have heard that name before but anyone else in this flat lived in fear of Malcolm Tucker and his Communications Team. Someone used as a threat by him might be worth getting to know.

"Oliver Reeder's phone"

"Hey all right, shitebag, you done it yet?"

"Sorry to disappoint but this is just his phone."

"Where's fucking Poxbridge?"

"WHY THE FUCK DO YOU ASK ME? HE WORKS FOR YOU LOT. ALL I DO IS SHARE THE FLAT WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND FOR FUCK'S SAKE."

"Awright you're the puir git sharing with blue pussy and shitehead. So why ye're on Twanky Wanky's phone?" asked the strangely cheerful scottish voice.

"He must have forgotten it here. It's been ringing incessantly and I just wanted to silence it. But when your name came up I thought.. maybe we have things in common to talk about."

With an ease that suggested he received these kind of offers on a daily basis, Jamie didn't even miss a beat. "We're in the middle of a shitstorm right now. Why don't ye shoot me a message to this number and I'll get back to ye later. Ta."

Affers copied the number to his own mobile before finally silencing Creepy Crawler's phone and setting it carefully back on the _chiffonier._

Things were looking promising.


End file.
